


Maggie

by Katiehorsie



Series: Maggie [1]
Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-05 20:32:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katiehorsie/pseuds/Katiehorsie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a year of torture, courtesy of Doctor Whitmore, Enzo is close to fading away into the darkness of his inner monster. But just when he is all but gone, a guiding light enters his life, in the form of the beautiful Maggie.</p><p>        If she really was an innocent in all of this, he didn’t want to darken her radiant beauty with the harsh reality.<br/>And her beauty was radiant.<br/>Her voice and laugh and smile lit up the familiar, dark room to the point where he almost didn’t recognize it anymore—even after the entire year it had held him captive. It was like she was her own sun, brightening everything her rays fell across.<br/>And that was exactly what he needed to survive here in this hell-hole, a light to brighten the darkness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meeting

He remembered when he first met her  
He had been leaning back against the wall of his cell, absently tossing his empty ration cup up in the air. The way the empty glass twisted and glittered in the dull, dusty light was at least slightly more interesting than the walls he had memorized long ago.  
The door to the room opened, and he barely spared more than a weary glance at Whitmore and the girl accompanying him. He knew what was coming, but he wouldn’t fight it. There was no reason to.  
“This is 12144,” Whitmore said. “He is our main test subject here, and your job will be to observe him and record your findings.”   
“Is he dangerous?” The girl asked.  
“I’d like to think yes,” Enzo said bitterly, beginning to toss the cup up again. “Though that’s probably far from the actuality of the situation.”  
“He’s kept on a strict ration that keeps him too weak to break through the bars,” Whitmore said. He flipped through some papers in his hands before handing a sheet to the girl. “This outlines some of the things I want you to take special note of, but record everything you observe.”  
“Yes, sir,” the girl said.  
Whitmore nodded in acknowledgement. “I have some business to see to. Come find me in a few hours.”  
“See you then, sir,” she said.  
When Enzo heard the door slam shut behind Whitmore, he glanced back up at the girl. On closer inspection, Enzo found she wasn’t much of a girl. She had to be in her early twenties, and her strawberry curls and brightly colored dress were much too cheerful and pretty to be involved with anything Whitmore did.  
“Pity,” Enzo said.  
“What was that?” The girl asked, settling herself in a chair outside his cell.  
“It’s a pity that a creature as beautiful as yourself is tangled up in a mess like this,” he said, looking back at the glass.  
“This isn’t a mess,” she said. “This is just science.”  
Enzo caught the glass. “Is that what they have convinced you this is?”  
“Doctor Whitmore has not had to convince me of anything. Why would he have to?”  
“Because most do not condone torture, even if it is for the ‘greater good’.”  
She laughed.  
It was a nice laugh, like a summer breeze through wind chimes, but Enzo didn’t particularly appreciate the fact that she was laughing about how Whitmore tortured him. The look he gave her must have conveyed just that.  
“What?” She asked.  
He just stared. The girl in front of him seemed so sincere, like she honestly had no idea what Whitmore’s science entailed.   
“You are joking, right?” She asked, concern lighting her big green eyes. “Because I swear I would never—“  
He shook his head. “Of course, darling.” If she really was an innocent in all of this, he didn’t want to darken her radiant beauty with the harsh reality.  
And her beauty was radiant.   
Her voice and laugh and smile lit up the familiar, dark room to the point where he almost didn’t recognize it anymore—even after the entire year it had held him captive. It was like she was her own sun, brightening everything her rays fell across.  
And that was exactly what he needed to survive here in this hell-hole, a light to brighten the darkness.  
Enzo stood and made his way over to the bars. “I’m Lorenzo,” he said, leaning against them. “But my friends call me Enzo.”  
“I’m Margaret,” she said. “But my friends call me Maggie.”  
He stuck his hand out to her through the bars, but she hesitated.  
“Don’t worry. I don’t bite.” Enzo smiled. “Much.”  
She smiled back nervously and took his hand, looking prepared to run, should Enzo try anything. “Pleased to meet you, Enzo.”  
He chuckled at her wide-eyed fear poorly covered by her good manners. “And I you, Maggie,” he replied. “And I you.”  
If only he’d known then just how pleasurable meeting her would truly be.


	2. New Year's and Scotch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Year's is just around the corner, and Maggie wants to make the holiday more enjoyable for Enzo.
> 
> “Scotch?” He looked up at her. “You spoil me.”  
> She blushed. “I remember that you mentioned you love the stuff, and it’s New Years on Saturday, and I leave for home tomorrow, you see.” She looked down at the bottle in his hands. “I thought that you would want someone to celebrate with, since you don’t have anyone here with you, so I thought that we could celebrate together before I leave.”  
> “You thought correctly, darling,” Enzo said. He opened the bottle and offered it back to her. “Do you want some?”

A month had passed since Maggie had first came, and since then, she had appeared three times a week (Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays, as she told him) without fail. For those handfuls of hours a week, Enzo’s prison seemed a bit less hellish and bleak. Some days they just sat in silence, her watching his every little move with an amount of interest that he found both excessive and annoying, but also somehow cute and endearing, and him laying around, occasionally stealing glances at the beauty beyond the bars.  
Other days, they would talk. Maggie told Enzo about what had happened in the past year ad what was going on now. He learned that she had a little brother and a little sister—twins, actually—that were terrors to be around, but she loved them anyways. He learned that she found smoking tobacco to be repulsive, and she disliked drinking, although she didn’t mind the occasional scotch or fine wine. He learned that she didn’t get the chance to go home for Christmas, but she was going home for New Year’s to see her parents and her siblings. They would all sit down to a turkey dinner on New Year’s Eve, and they would go to the park on New Year’s Day and eat sandwiches made with the leftover turkey by the duck pond, just like she had done for as long as she could remember.  
He learned that Maggie’s presence not only meant freedom from the edge of his humanity, but also freedom from Whitmore’s table. At least for a day.  
That little break in his torture wasn’t much, but it started to be everything. He had more time to recover from his time on the table. Not only that, but he could close his eyes and, for the first time in a year, not worry about waking up to the excruciating pain that dominated his waking hours and haunted his dreams. The fear of the pain was still there, yes, but at least he could sleep for a few hours—here and there—without reliving all the times that he’d been cut open and pulled apart, the times he’d seen his beating heart and all his innards, the times he’d screamed and cried for a God that didn’t care for a monster like him.  
Today was a Wednesday, and Enzo was leaning against the bars of his cell, waiting for Maggie in a manner that he had to admit was quite like that of an excited little puppy. And if he had a tail, he swore it would have been wagging itself off when the door opened, and Maggie stepped in with all of her radiance.  
“Hello, darling,” Enzo said.  
“Hello to you, too,” she replied, setting down the bag she was carrying by the chair she always sat in. “How are you today?”  
“Well enough,” he said. “And you?”  
She pulled something out of the bag and turned to him, a smile on her face. “I brought you a present,” she said, handing him something wrapped in old newspapers and topped with a red bow.  
“Did you?” He asked, taking it from her. “Then let’s see what it is, shall we?”  
He ripped the wrappings off quickly. To his delight, he found a bottle of scotch in his hands, and a very nice one at that.  
“Scotch?” He looked up at her. “You spoil me.”  
She blushed. “I remember that you mentioned you love the stuff, and it’s New Years on Saturday, and I leave for home tomorrow, you see.” She looked down at the bottle in his hands. “I thought that you would want someone to celebrate with, since you don’t have anyone here with you, so I thought that we could celebrate together before I leave.”  
“You thought correctly, darling,” Enzo said. He opened the bottle and offered it back to her. “Do you want some?”  
She shook her head. “I’m supposed to be working.”  
“Come now. Once won’t hurt anyone.”  
“I’m not entirely sure that Dr. Whitmore would be very happy if I did…”  
“Whitmore doesn’t need to know.”  
She smiled. “You are quite a bad influence.”  
“Little do you know that the true reason I am here is to keep my poor morals from poisoning the minds of others,” he joked, returning the smile.  
“I guess you’re right. Once won’t hurt.” She took the bottle from him and took a swig. She shuddered and blinked before swallowing and covering her mouth with the back of her hand. Wordlessly, she offered him the bottle.  
He took it and gulped down a few generous sips, reveling at the burn of alcohol in his mouth and throat. He hadn’t felt it in so long, and it was a welcome sensation. “This is strong,” he remarked, looking at the label on the bottle before trying to hand it back to her.  
She waved it away. “I’m fine,” she said.  
“Too strong?” He asked.  
She nodded.  
He shrugged and took another swig. “I quite missed scotch.”  
“May I ask you something?” She said, watching him take yet another generous sip.  
“Of course,” he replied.  
“How long have you been down here?” She asked “You don’t have to answer if you don’t wish to,” she added hastily when he hesitated. “I know it’s not my business, but I’m curious.”  
“It’s fine,” he said. “I believe I’ve been here for about three hundred ninety seven days, give or take a few. They’ve all started to run together.” He took yet another swig of scotch, suddenly feeling the need for alcohol coursing through is veins and the warmth it brought him. The cell was cold, but thinking of the extent of his imprisonment made it seem even colder.  
“Ah,” she said softly, looking at him with something that he couldn’t decide was pity or concern. “Don’t you get lonely or bored of being in a cell all the time?”  
“Every day,” he said. “Although for a few short hours a week, your presence makes it bearable.” _Barely_ , he added in his mind, looking back at the bottle in his hand.  
“I apologize,” Maggie said softly. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I only wanted to make your New Year’s more enjoyable.”  
A small, dark smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Ah, yes. A new year. A new start. A thousand reasons to be joyous,” he said. “But nothing will change for me. It will still be Whitmore and the table, then straight back to my cage.”  
He glanced back up at Maggie, who was looking at him with what he still couldn’t tell was concern or pity.  
“I can speak with Dr. Whitmore, if you want me to. Maybe he could do something to make everything more bearable for you,” she said. “Maybe he could find another vampire to keep you company, or he could—“  
“Stop it!” Enzo snapped. “Don’t say anything to him.”  
She had slowly been inching towards him throughout their conversation, but now she jumped back as if he had lunged for her throat, terror in her eyes.  
He sighed and hung his head. “I apologize,” he said, regretting snapping at his little bit of peace in this hell. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just don’t wish to cause Whitmore any more trouble than needed.” The first statement was the truth, and the second a lie that felt like Whitmore’s knife tearing through his soul.  
He looked up and met her eyes. “I promise you that I am doing quite well with my situation, and you have no reason to worry over me.”  
She swallowed and opened and closed her mouth once, twice, before speaking. “I believe I need to be going now. I still have a few more things to pack before I leave,” she said, hurriedly grabbing her bags.  
“Maggie…” Enzo said.  
“It’s fine, Enzo. But I really do have to hurry.” She opened the door and glanced back at him. “Happy New Year’s,” she said, before letting the door slam shut behind her.  
“Happy New Year’s,” he said before sighing and downing more of the scotch, alone once more in the cold, dark room.


End file.
